From the doorway of what Will assumed was Kelsey’s bedroom, she leaned out, a toiletry bag in one hand, a phone in the other. “I’ll be a few more minutes. Would you like something to drink?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
Watching her pack a trunk of wedding paraphernalia in her office had been like watching a professional golfer win The Masters Tournament. Not one motion wasted, not one hit in a bunker. In her apartment, she was no different and made multitasking look as effortless as a stroll along the greens on a spring morning. “Do you need any help?”
“No, thanks.”
This didn’t surprise him. He’d never seen a more self-sufficient, organized woman before. No wonder his mother had been so adamant about his bringing her back with him. “Let me know if you do.”
“Okay.” With that, she was gone.
Strictly business. Minimal exchanges. Polite manners. That was how Kelsey had acted for the past hour. He should be pleased. Yet, Will couldn’t forget the look of pure joy on her face when she’d tried on the veil or the flirtatious smile and the way she’d batted her eyelashes when she’d first seen him. She was a contradiction. That much he’d discovered in the short time they’d known each other.
Will settled back on the couch. Obviously, there was more to Kelsey than met the eye. She was professional and smooth on the outside. He could only wonder what went on inside.
He was very good at reading people. Over the years, he’d learned to anticipate the needs and wants of their guests by listening to them and piecing together things he heard, just as his mother had when she’d convinced his father to buy the Lake Inn so many years ago. That ability made Starr Properties successful. But Will had trouble figuring out Kelsey. Dressed in her designer clothes with perfectly applied makeup and the right amount of jewelry and accessories, she could be any one of his guests; she might have even been one at some point in time. But she was unlike any of them, and it bothered him that he noticed.
Regardless of his attraction to Kelsey, or whatever it was, Will had to concentrate on Faith’s wedding. That was what really mattered, the only thing that mattered.
In two weeks, his sister would be married, his mother would be happy, and the intriguing wedding consultant would be out of his life. Two weeks. Only fourteen days. He would make it. He would get through this, as he always did.
Will stared at the pictures covering the walls and on the fireplace mantel. Most were photographs of the Armstrong family comprised of politicians, lawyers, doctors, and corporate elite. They were darlings of the paparazzi, and one of the closest families to royalty America had. The most recent photo—resembling a family reunion with numerous aunts, uncles, and cousins—had been taken in front of the San Montico royal palace.
Last summer’s wedding had been the social event of the year and was broadcast live all over the globe. Mom had gushed over the fairy-tale romance and asked Will to wake up early to watch the wedding with her. He’d said no, much to her regret then, but he didn’t want to see another couple find their happily ever after. Not when he’d lost his. Yet he’d punished Mom for the way he felt. That hadn’t been right, and he should’ve known better.
Even after losing Sara and realizing how important family was, he’d taken his parents’ and sisters’ love for granted. At least he had until Mom’s stroke. Now, he realized how fleeting time was. He was determined to show everyone he loved how much they meant to him, no matter the cost. That was why he was in Beverly Hills and why he wouldn’t leave without Kelsey.
Kelsey reappeared in the doorway. “If you’re bored, there are magazines in the ottoman. I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
Before he could say anything, she disappeared again. Will opened the ottoman that doubled as a coffee table. Inside, he found stacks of magazines ranging fromBridetoVanity Fair,a few novels, and some photo albums.
Curious, Will removed one of the albums. Opening the cover, he saw it was more of a scrapbook than a photo album, containing everything from actual wedding pictures to newspaper and magazine clippings about various weddings. As Will flipped through the pages, he recognized the extent of her clientele. But something else happened, too.
An unexpected warmth filled him. Kelsey had surprised him yet again. She might not consider herself a romantic, but one thing was clear. Someone who put this much time and effort into preserving the memory of each wedding she coordinated had to be sentimental.
Each two-page spread contained photographs of the bride and groom and the reception and keepsakes from the wedding, such as a ribbon or ceremony program. Everything was neatly matted on coordinating paper, and she’d written captions under each item.
He continued paging through the book. Each wedding was different. From movie stars to political figures, Kelsey had managed to pull off spectacular and unique weddings for each of them. Some were enormous affairs with a security detail and media coverage, but others appeared to be more intimate gatherings. That made him happy and relieved since that was what his family was hoping for.
After he reached the end and put the album back in the ottoman, a satisfied smile formed on his lips. Taking Kelsey home with him was the right move. Beneath the all-business exterior was something warm and fuzzy. That was what they needed—correction—what his mother needed. And Faith, too.
Opening the next scrapbook, he expected to see more wedding memorabilia. He didn’t. Will gasped. He jerked his hand away but then forced himself to continue. He turned one page and another. This book didn’t celebrate her clients’ marriages; it marked their divorces.
Will frowned. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. Page upon page of clippings. Ugly accusations, tearful confessions, angry photographs. Her clientele was the kind to get as much press coverage surrounding their divorces as with their weddings. In the upper corner of each page Kelsey had noted the years, sometimes only days, the marriage lasted. Will tried to reconcile the first book with the second. He couldn’t.
The first book showed how much she loved her job, and the photographs and clippings reaffirmed her talent for designing weddings, but the second scrapbook was the exact opposite. He didn’t get it. Something didn’t add up. He placed the book back in the ottoman and closed the lid.
Kelsey entered the room with one suitcase in her hand, another rolling behind her, and a bag on her shoulder. “I’m ready.”
Will hesitated. Should he mention the scrapbooks? She was supposed to come home with him, but was it in his family’s best interest to put her in charge of Faith’s wedding? He wondered, after what he’d just seen. The divorce album rubbed him the wrong way and made him wonder if Kelsey had a hidden agenda or something. He felt as if he’d opened the cupboard of a health fanatic only to find a stash of junk food.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
A perfect segue, but something held him back. Was he reading too much into this? Maybe the divorce album was a joke. Maybe he was too embarrassed to admit he’d peeked at her scrapbooks. Maybe he was looking for any excuse not to take her home with him and spend the next two weeks by her side.
“No.” His goal had been to get Kelsey to coordinate the wedding as his mother wanted. It was what Faith had asked him to do. No sense changing course now despite his own reservations.
Will rose from the couch. “Let’s go. Our plane is waiting for us.”
